


Yes, Sir

by Kika988



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Keith just likes being called sir okay, M/M, Shiro finds this fascinating, Slight Authority Kink, and Matt is a good bro, get-together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 05:24:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16758796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kika988/pseuds/Kika988
Summary: Shiro tries an unconventional solution to a frustrating problem, and ends up generating a whole new set of frustrations to deal with.





	Yes, Sir

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KaiserNoire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaiserNoire/gifts).



> This was another request, this time for "one of them mockingly calling the other “sir” in front of other people for the express purpose of getting the other flustered." I kind of veered off to the side of that a bit, but hopefully it's close enough for you to enjoy!
> 
> Many thanks to my Drifty for the beta read!

The first time he said it, Shiro had the best of intentions. The Garrison had been dragging its feet on figuring out how to reinstate Keith and the other paladins into the command structure, despite them accepting Shiro back easily enough.

"You were MIA, not dishonorably discharged like Kogane," Iverson had pointed out, looking mildly uncomfortable when Shiro had demanded an explanation. "We'll get it figured out, it'll just take some time, and in the meantime they have all the access to everything they need anyway. It's just a formality."

That formality held a lot of weight when it came to the respect of other officers, though, and while Keith didn't seem to think anything of the others talking over him and ignoring him in meetings, it grated on Shiro's nerves.

Shiro had seen them as equals for some time now, but with him being the Captain of the Atlas and Keith being the Black Paladin and leader of Voltron, he thought others would see it that way now, too. So when that didn't seem to be happening, he had an idea -- one he acted on without too much forethought, to be fair. After all, Keith didn't have an official military rank, so it wasn't _wrong_.

"How does the work go on decreasing the lions' charging time, sir?"

Shiro was expecting the shocked silence in the room, but the look on Keith's face is what took him by surprise. It wasn't just the momentary surprise he'd anticipated -- no, it was a pause, then a flush starting on his cheeks and spreading at lightspeed out to his neck and the tips of his ears.

Keith stuttered briefly, so quietly Shiro almost missed it despite sitting right beside him, before he cleared his throat and was right back in business mode, but it was enough.

 _Oh,_ thought Shiro, an understanding dawning. Well. That was something to think about.

_________________________________

"So what was _that_ all about?" Shiro glanced up to see Matt sliding onto the bench across from him in the cafeteria. The morning meeting had gone on for another hour after The Incident, as he had mentally dubbed it, but there was no doubt what Matt was referring to, and he knew playing dumb would get him nowhere.

"The brass haven't been showing Keith the respect his position warrants," Shiro replied, shrugging. "Just thought they needed a reminder."

"Oh, of course," Matt replied, nodding slowly as he bit into a soggy french fry. "It was absolutely that, and not you bringing your kinks into the boardroom." Shiro choked on his drink, glaring across at Matt, who continued, "What? You had to notice how your boy reacted."

"He's not _my_ anything, for one thing," Shiro said sharply, _no matter how much I might wish for it to be otherwise_ , he added silently. "And for another, you're just reading too much into things. There's no grand scheme here."

"There's always some kind of scheme." Shiro froze for a moment at Keith's voice, but smiled at him as he settled onto the bench beside him. "What are you guys planning now?"

"Nothing," Shiro replied firmly. "No scheming. Matt was confused why I said what I did in the meeting, and I was just explaining that it was because the brass aren't respecting you as they should. Sorry if I surprised you with it, though." Matt opened his mouth as if to add something, but Shiro shot him a look and he quieted, turning his attention to his lunch.

"Oh." Keith nodded. "Yeah, I was wondering about that."

Shiro ignored the sharp kick to his ankle -- yes, he'd noticed Keith was blushing again, _thankyouverymuch_.

"You don't have to, though. Pretty sure you're still gonna outrank me when the dust settles," Keith replied, grinning. Shiro raised his shoulder in a shrug.

"Maybe. I'd prefer if I didn't, though." He paused, trying to get a read on Keith, and for once unable to do so. "Does it… bother you? Me saying that?"

"No," Keith replied instantly. "No, it's fine. Yeah, fine." He seemed a bit flustered, but he wasn't lying, Shiro could tell that much. "If it was anyone else, I might think they were making fun of me, but it's you, so it's fine," Keith said, meeting Shiro's eyes with a smile that made something in his chest flutter.

"If you really don't mind, I might use it again when people are being… less than respectful," Shiro continued tactfully. Keith shrugged as Matt's phone chirped cheerfully from his pocket.

"Ahh, that's Katie, I gotta run." He stood, giving a lazy two-fingered salute. "See you later, Shiro, _sir_ ," he added with a wink, aiming the last word at Keith. Keith rolled his eyes and tucked into his lunch with purpose. Shiro followed suit, and they ate the rest of their meal in comfortable silence.

When Shiro checked his phone after lunch, he couldn't help but grin at Matt's message, sent just seconds after he vacated the table.

_I'd be more offended that I didn't get a blush for *my* "sir", but I think we both expected that, didn't we?_

______________________________________________________

From there, things _may_ have gotten a little out of hand.

It was hard to pinpoint the exact moment Shiro stopped using the word as a tool for encouraging respect and more for… well, his own pleasure. Was it when he was flagging Keith down across the quad the next morning, with quite a few cadets within earshot to hear the "Kogane, sir!" he called out? Or maybe a couple of days later, the simple "yes, sir" he replied with to a question Keith asked in another one of those interminable meetings.

Those were at least justified -- plenty of witnesses, plenty of people to see the respect the Captain of the Atlas afforded the Leader of Voltron. Nothing at all to do with the way Keith's reaction sent spirals of heat shooting down Shiro's spine, making him hope for more than he'd dared until now.

Later in the week, though, when Voltron and Atlas were training together, that was a little harder to explain away.

"Ready to call it a day?" Keith asked, his face popping up on Shiro's comm on the bridge of the Atlas. He knew Keith was just concerned; transforming the Atlas and running through drills still took a lot out of Shiro. Even now, he could feel a line of sweat beading on his brow, but he wasn't quite willing to give in just yet.

"Only if you don't think you can keep up for another round, _sir,_ " Shiro replied without thinking, and-- _oh_ , there it was. Keith had finally stopped blushing every time Shiro used the word, but the way his eyes darkened now, visible even on the comm screen, sent something warm swooping low in Shiro's belly.

Later, when Keith was reading over some paperwork on the couch in Shiro's room, warm and relaxed in soft pajama pants and a tank top Shiro kept having to drag his eyes away from, Shiro almost brought it up, almost asked if he was going too far. Almost asked if he wanted to go farther.

But when he said Keith's name, and Keith looked up to meet his eyes, soft and trusting, the words died on Shiro's tongue.

"I'm glad you're here," he said instead, and it was true. No matter what else this thing simmering between them might or might not lead to, that would always be true. It must have been the right thing to say, because Keith smiled, and wasn't that really all Shiro ever needed?

___________________________________________________

Shiro was an idiot. A fool. A romantic fool, to be sure, to think a _smile_ could be enough, but a fool nonetheless.

It was two days later -- two _nights_ later, to be more precise, in the wee hours of the morning, and somehow Shiro and Keith had both ended up on the Atlas's training deck. Shiro had woken half an hour earlier in a cold sweat, shoved brutally into the world of the waking by a nightmare he couldn't (and didn't want to) remember. Keith hadn't said as much, but Shiro imagined his reason for being here was likely the same.

Whatever their reasons, once they were both here, it seemed logical for them to spar. They were both awake and restless, so why not, right?

 _This_ was why not, Shiro thought desperately as he circled his friend on the mat. This thing between them, whatever it was, had been brought to a boil by Shiro's careless use of a word he'd never given a second thought until now. He'd seen Keith's eyes darken with what might have been desire, and now he couldn't _un_ see it, which was… a bit troublesome, when they were about to--

It was almost always Keith who attacked first, and this time was no exception. Shiro barely got his arm up in time to deflect the blow, and stepped to the side on pure instinct, watching as Keith followed through, turning around to face Shiro once more, his position poised somewhere between defense and offense.

"Not quite awake yet?" Keith taunted, grin sharp.

"Awake enough," Shiro countered, and the fight began in earnest. They traded blows for a few minutes, dancing out of the way and deflecting, sometimes taking a hit to gain an advantage on the next move. The air almost seemed to crackle between them, but they both ignored it, focusing instead on the familiar dance between them, honed and perfected over several years of sparring together.

It wasn't until the fight devolved into wrestling that Shiro realized how out of his depth he truly was. Not in the fight; no, he still held a slight advantage there, if only because of his arm. But having Keith pressed in close, sliding against him as they both struggled for the upper hand? That was possibly more than he could handle.

 _I'm actually going to pop a boner if I don't get this under control._ In a move borne of desperation, Shiro tried something new with his arm, shooting it out behind him where he couldn't see to latch onto Keith's leg, pinning it to the mat to take one limb out of the equation.

From there, it was relatively simple to loop his left arm under the knee of Keith's free leg, replace his prosthetic arm with his own leg to maintain the pin, and get his hands around Keith's forearms to pin them to the mat above his head. Keith was almost bent in half underneath him, Shiro's weight bearing into his arms to hold him down.

"Yield," Shiro huffed out. He watched as Keith considered their position, mentally ticking off any possible escape routes he might try. He was beautiful, Shiro thought helplessly, far too close to do anything but _look,_ from the sharp jaw to the fierce indigo eyes to the wild shock of dark hair that was currently plastered to his forehead with sweat.

Keith briefly tried to free his pinned leg, leading Shiro to sit back on it even more firmly. That was what did it, really -- that shift of weight, the flash of _something_ in Keith's eyes at the firm contact of their lower bodies. Shiro felt the last of his self-control melt away as if it had never existed at all.

"Do you yield, _sir?”_

There was no excuse for it, not here with just the two of them. Nothing beyond Shiro wanting to see how Keith's eyes darkened. This time he was close enough to hear the sharp intake of breath that went along with it, see how his eyes dilated, feel the shudder that seemed to run through his entire body.

"Yield." Keith's voice was low, the word dropping into the tense silence between them. Shiro sat back slowly, releasing Keith's arms and settling back on his knees but not moving from where he hovered over Keith's legs. There was a moment of silence before Keith spoke again, sitting up to look Shiro in the eye. "You… you like saying that."

"I like that you like it," Shiro replied instantly, painfully honest. "If it's, if you-" He stopped, cleared his throat while he gathered his thoughts, trying to think through the haze of _Keith Keith Keith_ that pulsed through his mind. "I can stop, if you-"

"Don't you _dare_." The words were low, barely more than a whisper, but full of an emotion Shiro didn't have time to parse before he realized _Keith was kissing him._

Keith's lips were soft but insistent, and Shiro opened up under them immediately, without hesitation. By the time they parted, they were pressed close to each other, Shiro's hands settled on Keith's hips, one of Keith's hands on the back of Shiro's neck, nails scratching lightly through the close-cropped hair at the base of his skull in a way that made him shiver as Keith blinked down at him.

"I didn't really intend to do that," Keith admitted after a long moment. His gaze dipped to Shiro's lips. "But I don't think I'm sorry for it."

"God, I hope not," Shiro replied in a rush. He flushed as Keith narrowed his eyes at him.

"Were you goading me into that on purpose?"

"Ah… not exactly, no," Shiro said slowly. "I really just liked seeing your reaction."

Keith hummed thoughtfully as he leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over Shiro's face. "Was this the reaction you had in mind?"

"Honestly, I didn't think I'd get this far," Shiro admitted readily. "I think it turned out pretty well, though I have some concerns about when your rank is reinstated and _everyone_ is calling you sir."

Keith laughed. "I wouldn't worry about it, Captain." He lips quirked up as he leaned in, speaking softly in Shiro's ear despite them being alone on the training deck. "I think my preferences are… pretty specific."

"Oh?" Shiro's voice was weak to his own ears, so he couldn't blame Keith for the smirk he wore as he drew back.

"Yeah. I could show you how specific, if you want," he offered as he stood. "Maybe in your quarters?"

And really, what else was Shiro supposed to say to that?

"Yes, sir."

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on Twitter at @B1ackPa1adins to cry about Sheith or throw fic requests at me!


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